Quick! A Distraction!
by the corrupted quiet one
Summary: Officer Barbrady goes to check out what smells like pot at the KFC. With Kenny can throw the joint away but he needs a distraction. Lucky for him, he's got Kyle to help in an awkward plan. T for sexual content.


_WFHOOOOO!_

A puff of light grey smoke blew out of Kenny's mouth, a lit joint between his bony fingers. He watched the smoke rise in the air, dancing out the backseat window. His gaze wandered the parking lot as the ashy smoke faded into the velvet night, seeing nothing but an empty black lot, some fuzzy houses in the distance, snow, and the bright red and white KFC.

Inside, Stan and Cartman were ordering them a huge bucket of chicken—like they did every Friday night the four of them were together—while Kyle and Kenny waited in the car (though it was more like Kyle watching the car and for the police before Kenny got caught for possession). Even with no one around, the service was still slow as a bucket of snails, meaning a nice long wait for the duo left on watch duty. Kenny didn't mind; he _did_ have a joint.

"Kenny," Kyle sighed, using the window on his side of the back as a mirror, emerald eyes glaring at the blond stoner, "Would you put that thing away?"

Kenny slipped the joint between his lips, taking another inhale as he turned to look across the car at the redhead. A hazy dazed glaze covered his light sapphire eyes, making him look mystified. A smirk sprouted on his face, grabbing the weed cigarette from his mouth and blowing out a small wispy ring.

"Come on, Kyle," He said, following the smoke ring as it drifted over to the redheaded boy, smirk growing as the smoke caressed Kyle's shoulder, "I just need to be sedated. Ya know, _ba-ba-bamp-ba ba-ba-ba-ba-bamp-ba, I wanna be sedated!"_

"I'm being serious," Kyle hissed, tone cold as the air outside, his glare intensifying. It'd been a long night and Kyle wasn't up for an arrest on top of it. They drove all the way to Denver for a trip to Casa Bonita ("You're never too old for Casa Bonita," Cartman said) ended in a miserable failure, the restaurant closed for renovations and then the car nearly breaking down on the way back. Luckily they made it to the local KFC, but Kenny's open drug habits weren't on the list of things Kyle wanted to deal with, "The car's starting to smell like pot."

"So?" Kenny shrugged, "I like the smell. Makes the car smell a lil' more..._natural_."

"Yeah, I'm sure it'll be natural when a cop comes and hauls your ass to jail..." He muttered.

"_Our_ asses, you'd come by association." Kenny snickered. He didn't want to go to jail (he wouldn't particularly care if he did, though, he'd be out in a few days), but teasing Kyle about it was an opportunity he wasn't passing up.

"Don't even joke about that, I'm the good on in the group, remember?" Kyle had his fair share of tricks in the past, but he never got caught for any of them or at very least got off scot-free.

"Riiiiiiight," Kenny puffed out another cloud of smoke, then went back to grinning like the Cheshire cat, "I've gotta kick it with the tight-ass goodie two shoes before munchin' on my Cornel."

"HEY!" His head snapped around, glaring at Kenny's face rather than his opaque reflection, "Just because I'm not a carefree druggie doesn't mean anything!"

"Then why are you yelling?" The blond asked, growing amused with Kyle's little blow ups. He never pushed Kyle too far; but giving him a little nudge was fun every now and then. They were friends! It was healthy to tease a little.

"I'm not yelling!" He barked, "I'm just raising my voice so you can hear me through your thick skull!"

"Kyle, you're _sooo_ mean to me," Kenny pouted, forcing his lips to curve down even though he wanted to smile, "I swear you give me more verbal abuse than Fatass."

"Go fuck yourself," Kyle rolled his eyes, turning his attention back to the window. Deep down he knew Kenny was just toying with him—it wasn't like this was the first time he'd done that, especially under the influence of drugs—but he still wasn't in the mood for it.

"B'awww, you're gonna make me cry." Once he saw the back of Kyle's head, he let his lips flip from a frown to a grin, biting back snickers.

"You know I can still see your reflection, dumbass."

"Ya just can't take ya pretty eyes off me, huh?"

"Ugh..." _Those two are taking way too long in there..._ He thought.

Rolling down the street came Officer Barbrady's cop car, cruising smoothly on its path. The metallic white and oceanic turquoise stuck out against the dark street, the yellow glow of the headlights attracting Kyle's attention. The Jew felt his muscles tighten as he continued watching the cruiser, make the turn into the KFC parking lot, headed to take one of the spaces nearby.

_Shit! If the second he opens the door...he's going to get a whiff of the..._

"Kenny!" Kyle turned back to the blond, voice cracking.

"Hmm?" Kenny puffed out another ball of smoke.

"Cops. Here. Now. Joint. Get rid of it." His eyes flickered back to the cop car, watching the car stop and settle in the space. His thoughts kept racing, every possible bad outcome flashing in his mind.

As dumb as Barbrady was, he knew what pot smelled like. And when he smelt it, he'd march over and find Kenny and Kyle with a lit joint and a backseat full of smoke. Then he'd haul them out of the car, bend them over, and handcuff them. After that, he'd shove them in the cop car all while Stan and Eric were battling over what bucket to get. Then they'd take a trip to the station before being sentenced an allotted time in prison, where they'd have to work their asses off every day and only have a little bit of bread, stew, and dirty tap water. And then the veteran prisoners would take a look at their fresh meat and sneak up on them in the middle of the night and...

_No! No! Th-that can't happen! NO! _He shuddered.

"Calm yo tits," Kenny scoffed.

He glanced back at Barbrady, seeing the tubby policeman climb out of his car. The officer paused, sniffing the air and looking around, shades still down as always.

_He smelled it! He smelled it! Oh mother of fuck HE SMELLED IT! _Kyle wasn't made for prison! All his muscles grew tighter, skin tone growing pastier with each passing second. His _curls_ were even twitching from all this.

Kenny kept his eyes on Kyle, and then let his eyes shift to the bumbling officer. In the back of his mind, a little connector clicked that told him that Kyle _was_ right (_as always_) and he _should_ hide the weed while he still had the time. _But there's nowhere to stash it..._ Kenny thought, not as frantic as Kyle, but still fairly concerned, _I need some kinda distraction...It ain't like Barbrady's smart enough to figure out things if somethin' else is on his mind...But what...Hmm..._

As Kenny thought, Kyle kept shaking, watching the ebony shades scan the vacant lot until he finally fixed his gaze on their car. The blackened look pierced Kyle's heart with fear, causing him to whip around and star at the back of the driver's seat, eyes popping out of his head and breath going at a rapid pace. It was over; it was all over for him!

_Wait a sec..._ A smile appeared on Kenny's face, the gears in his mind turning faster and faster as his little plan formed, _I got it!_

"Ky!" Kenny flung the joint out the window, letting it land over on the sidewalk leading to the fast food place, "I got it!"

"J-just throwing your joint out the window isn't gonna do anything!" Kyle choked out, looking at the blond from the corner of his eye, "We're still fucked."

"That ain't all that's in my plan," Kenny rolled his eyes. Then, he unbuckled his seatbelt with one hand and used the other to unzip his parka, scooting closer to Kyle once he was free from the polyester bonds.

Kyle slowly turned to look at Kenny, trying to figure out what the boy was doing. He knew Kenny was high, but why the hell was he taking off his jacket?

"Ken..."

"Shh," Kenny shrugged off the orange parka, then clamped a hand over the Semite's mouth, "Shut up and slide off your jacket."

Kyle just stared.

"NOW!"

Kyle blinked a few times, then obeyed. _Jesus Christ what the fuck am I doing...?_ He thought, undoing the buttons as quickly as he could.

Kenny grunted, taking the hand off his friend's face and grabbing the hem of his shirt. After checking to see where Barbrady was—halfway across the parking lot, nearing their location—he tore off his shirt, tossing it out of the car. The cold night air whipped his back, but the wintry wind wasn't going to slow him down. They were running out of time.

Kyle opened his jacket, tilting his head when he saw Kenny sitting next to him without a shirt.

"Kenny, I don't see how this..." His eyes flickered to the policeman. He was getting even closer...

"Just follow my lead." Kenny whispered before diving in to claim Kyle's lips. His hands shot down, fiddling with the button and zipper and working down.

Kyle's cheeks flared crimson, his eyes nearly rolling out of his head. Kenny had his tongue slithering into his mouth and his hands slipping into his pants; what the hell was he supposed to do? He couldn't even do anything, ending up pinned against the car door. _What the...what am I..._ He couldn't complete a single thought, every train breaking has the invasive tongue flicked and swished between his teeth and the hands slipped down the boxers and twiddled with what he found down south.

"Nnngh..." Kyle shuddered, turning into a human vibrator. He couldn't see how this was helping them, his mind clouded with mental humidity formed from confusion and physical heat. He still heard the _chickedy_-_chank_ of the keys to his cell door in prison; the only difference was that now he was prepared for someone feeling him up.

Officer Barbrady circled the car, stepping up to the open window. He peered in, having followed his nose this far. "Hoo..." His mouth gaped open, sooner expecting to see two teenage boys—one of them renowned offender Kenny McCormick—sharing a joint rather than making out.

Kenny's ears perked at the sound. A smirked came onto his face, the gasp music to his ears.

_Bingo._

Slowly, he leaned his head back, tongue retreating back into his mouth as he glanced over his shoulder at the shocked cop. He made sure to keep his head down Kyle's pants and move his head so the idiotic officer could see that _who_ he was with and _what_ they were doing.

"Is there a problem," Kenny licked a bit of saliva dribbling from the corner of his mouth, "Officer?" He smiled at the pudgy man, trying to act like an angel. A horny angel.

"Uh..." Barbrady looked at Kenny a long moment, and then looked over at Kyle. The redhead let out a little moan—not that he could help it—prompting the policeman to look back at Kenny, "I uh..."

"Sorry, Officer, but do ya mind talking a little quicker?" Using a sleight of hand trick, Kenny got Kyle to let out another louder groan, "Ky and I are a little busy. Hey, do you smell somethin' funny?"

"W-w-well," Barbrady stammered, "I-I actually came over here because I was about-t to g-g-get some KFC-C when I-I thought I..."

"Oh god, smells like pot!" Kenny wrinkled his nose, virtually forgetting the trembling reddening Jew he had pinned to the side of the car, "Must've been Craig, he was loitering around here a while ago before Kyle and I scared him off with our passionate kissing. Craig you homophobic stoner..."

"Wha...wha..." Kyle tried to say something, but all he could do was impersonate Helen Keller with a twitching leg.

"Weeeell, I guess there's nothing to see then," Officer Barbrady backed away, pot-belly jiggling like a bowl of pudding with every step back, "Just...you boys be safe..."

"Oh Officer, it's not like ya can get pregnant from gay sex!" Kenny laughed; watching as the policeman waddled away, looking at his quick feet as he headed for the restaurant. Once he saw the blue-clad cop disappear through the doors of the restaurant, Kenny leaned back, taking his hands out of his friend's pants and settling back in his seat. "PHEW! That was close, eh Ky?"

Kyle stayed silent, looking like a person who just survived the world's most severe earthquake. He looked at Kenny, then at his pants then back at Kenny, blinking rapidly. His breath came out lightly, but still faster than usual. The red tinge on his cheeks faded from bright burning carmine to a smouldering crimson. Even though they'd evaded getting caught for the marijuana (that was the point of it, right?), Kyle still wasn't exactly calm.

"D-d-dude..." He said, a bit shocked he could even let out a word.

"I did good, huh?" Kenny smiled, feeling a bit of cocky pride in him. He'd outsmarted the police, dumb as the police were.

_SLAP!_

"_Kenny McCormick never do that ever again you butt-fucking asshole!"_

Kenny took a minute to register the stinging skin on his cheek and the growing red handprint.

_Damn that boy can slap a guy silly..._ He heard Kyle mutter even more little obscenities at him as he zipped up his pants (while trying to push _something_ down) and close up his jacket.

"I'm sorry, Kyle..." Kenny said, "But hey! No jail time!" There _was_ a bright side.

"Y-yeah..." Kyle muttered, buttoning up his jacket again and shifting to mould into the door of the car, "J-j-just...warn me next time...or something...yeah..." The red still hadn't dyed down from the crimson shade.

"Riiiight..." Kenny chuckled, each one coming out awkward and off-key. He grabbed his parka and put it back on, glancing at Kyle every now and then. Kyle went back to staring out the window, utterly silent.

"HEY FAGS!" Just as Kenny zipped up his coat, Cartman and Stan walked over to the car, a bucket of chicken in each arm, overflowing with crispy, oily assortments of the best fried chicken in South Park.

"Hey guys," Kenny said, noticing Kyle glance over as the fat brunet and muscular jock walk up on either side of the car, "Got the Cornel?"

"No, Keenny, we're just holding buckets of crisped shit," Cartman rolled his eyes, "God, Poor Boy, stop being such a dope."

"Hey, I was just smokin' some of that," Kenny said, "But now I want chicken, ya know I don't get to eat this kinda gourmet crap often."

"Calm down, Ken," Stan sighed, handing off one of his buckets through the window to the blond, "Here's your damn chicken."

"Thanks, Stanny," Kenny smiled, wrapping his arms around the warm candy-cane striped bucket, "Hey Ky, ya want so—"

"No." Kyle squeaked.

"Kyle," Stan frowned as he opened up the door to the driver's seat, "Are you o—"

"Fine. I just want to go home. Okay?"

"D'aww, is Kahl getting afraid of the dark and wants to go home to his bitchy Mommy?" Eric snickered, opening his door and rolling in, both buckets sitting on his lap.

"Shut. Up." Kyle snarled.

"Okay, dude, we'll go home..." Stan frowned, sliding into the driver's seat with his bucket between his legs.

Both open doors slammed shut and Stan started up the engine, glancing at the duo in the back with the rear-view mirror. He saw Kenny staring oddly at Kyle, slowly nibbling on the breaded skin of a wing as Kyle pointedly ignored him, staring intently outside. Kyle briefly glanced over at Kenny, a slight look of disgust on his face when he saw Kenny licking his fingers to get the grease off. He looked back at Kyle, pausing while he was sucking on three fingers. Kyle quickly looked away, glaring even harder out the window while Kenny bit his lip.

"Did...something happen while Cartman and I were gon—"

"_NO!"_ They both shouted, snapping their heads to glare at Stan. They soon found themselves glancing back at each other, which caused them to immediately go back to what they were doing before, only with an even thicker air of awkward strawberries between them.

"Oooh," Cartman clomped away at his greasy leg, spitting out chunks of half-chewed meat as he spoke, "Sounds like Kyle's guilty about cheating on you with Poor Boy, Stanny."

Kyle turned a shade redder in the backseat.

"Cartman, just keep eating your fucking food," Stan rolled his eyes, easing a foot on the gas pedal.

They turned out of the KFC lot, the only sound in the car being Eric's obnoxiously loud chewing at the occasional rattle of the motor.

From that night on, trips to the KFC became a hell of a lot more awkward for Kenny and Kyle.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Why did I write this. I spent all day writing this (because I have no attention span and got off topic so many times) and...I don't even know. My friend told me about how this happened to two straight guys and...I guess I felt like writing what would happen if Ken and Ky were in a situation similar. **

**Well, that was fun, a nice way to get a little stress off. That was the only reason I wrote this. YAY EXAMS. I should actually update multichapter fictions after school is out, which is the end of this week. But for now there's this. HURRAY FOR AWKWARD SITUATIONS. **

**Thanks a ton for reading! I hope you were mildly entertained (I know I was less descriptive with the hands in the pants so I could keep this T) and stuff. Leave a review! I hope to actually get around to updates after exams, so wish me luck! ~CQO**


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